A Grand Anything
by saltlines
Summary: Sal Taylor joined Torchwood in March 2005. In January of 2007, she disappeared. This is her story.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is just a few scribblings I've been working on. As always, they're mostly not mine.**

Sal Taylor was staring out at the bay, a slight frown upon her face. She was standing at the railing on the edge of the pier, wind whipping at her dress. As Sal pulled her coat tighter around herself, she shivered slightly. Even in summer, Cardiff was cold.

A young man walked up and stood next to Sal. "Hey."

Sal jumped slightly, startled. She snapped her head around to look at the intruder, and relaxed. "Oh, it's you."

The man rolled his eyes. "No need to sound so excited."

Embarrassed, Sal blushed. "Sorry. It's just I wasn't quite expecting anyone to be out here."

"Yeah, well, this is Cardiff. Weird shit happens. Like, for example, people standing outside in five degree weather in the middle of the night." The young man grinned at Sal, a the corners of his eyes crinkling mischievously.

Sal didn't return the smile. Instead, she turned back to the ocean. The events of the last few hours were still too fresh in her mind to look her friend in the eye.

The man's grin faded as he studied his companion. She looked worn and fragile, her shoulders slumped out of her normally impeccable posture. Her wavy red hair had fell from it's neat bun and was now all mussed and frizzy from the wind and the rain. "Hey," he said softly, resting a hand on her shoulder, "you alright?"

Sal snorted derisively. "Oh, peachy keen."

The man gripped her shoulder. "Don't give me that." He spun Sal around to face him, his free hand cupping her chin and bringing her face up so he could look her in the eye. "You saw some sick shit go down today. You can't just keep all that inside you."

The fragile young woman did her best to avoid her friend's gaze. "No. Owen, I just..." she trailed off, biting her lip. She began to tremble slightly. "It was just so terrible." Sal's voice cracked, and any semblance of composure she had been clinging to went out the window.

"I know, love. I know." Owen pulled his friend into a hug, stroking her soft hair. He had been in her place once. His third day on the job there had been an explosion on the Severn Bridge, some sort of alien car bomb. It had vaporized the immediate victims, but those further away were stripped of all their skin. He had seen some horrible things while working in the A&E, but that bomb had beat them all.

Sal's began crying in earnest now, sobs wracking her small frame. Her tears were soaking Owen's jacket, but he didn't seem to mind. He just held her until her tears stopped, and Sal let him. She had only known the man for a few weeks, but they had become fast friends. He was the one who gave her the grand tour on her first day, who had shown her the ropes. He was the one who took her out for a drink after her first alien encounter, and the one who defended her when she screwed up.

When Sal's sobs finally subsided, she pulled back from Owen's embrace. She began wiping the tears off her face with her sleeve, but Owen stopped her. He pulled a hanky from his jacket pocket and wiped her face, then put it over her nose.

"Blow." He ordered, as if Sal was a small child.

She obeyed, and Owen crumpled the dirty tissue and threw it in a nearby bin. "God, that was embarrassing." The young woman buried her face in her hands.

"Not at all. Jack did that for me, my first breakdown."

Sal giggled at the thought of their tough Captain acting like a concerned father. "No! He's so..." she struggled for the right adjective.

"Detached? Yeah. I was pretty surprised. But he can be quite sweet, when he's in the mood."

"Hm." Sal returned to staring at the ocean, biting her lip again. "Owen?"

"Yeah, babes?" The older man looked down at his friends' uncertain face.

"Would you..." Sal trailed off uncertainly, then cleared her throat and began again. "Would you walk me to me car?"

Owen smiled warmly, a rare look for him. "Of course. Can't have you getting eaten by a weevil or nothing."

Sal smiled. "Thanks. It's just, I don't really know the city that well still, and, you know..."

Owen chuckled. "No need to explain. I completely understand." He offered his arm out to her, like a gentleman in the old movies.

Sal smiled and took it, and the pair began walking back towards the street.

As the walked, Owen started up the conversation again. "So, I've been meaning to ask. Is Sal short for anything? It's kind of a weird name." He realized he sounded a bit rude and hurriedly added "Not in a bad way or anything, just in a you-don't-hear-that-often kind of way."

The woman grinned at her friend's fluster. "No offense taken. But yeah, it's short for Salinda."

Owen raised an eyebrow.

Sal smiled crookedly. "Yeah, I know. My parents were weird. And I guess that could be shortened to Sally, but no one ever called me that, so I just kind of stuck with Sal- it's what my older brother used to call me when we were little."

"Ah. But your name is seriously Salinda?"

"Unfortunately."

"Is it a family name? Cause I can't see anyone naming their kid 'Salinda' just out of the blue."

Sal led the pair around the corner. "Well, my mum had this thing for this old film star, and her name was Sarah, but my da wanted me named after his grandmother, Linda, so they just stuck the two together and got Salinda."

"No offense, but that's nutters." Owen shook his head, greatly amused.

"Yeah, I know." Sal stopped at her car, a silver hatchback.

Owen snorted. "That is such a girly car."

"Hey!" Sal protested. "It's a really good car. Everything fits in the Fit." Sal patted her car affectionately.

Owen rolled his eyes. "I bet it has a name, too."

"Actually, it doesn't yet. But now that you mention it, maybe I'll start calling it Owen." Sal smiled at her workmate and unlocked the doors.

"Shut up." Owen grinned at the younger woman.

"You're just jealous." Sal threw her bag in the backseat and opened the driver's door.

"Yeah, that's it." Owen chuckled, then sobered up. "You'll be okay?"

Sal shrugged resignedly, looking at the ground. "I've got to do, haven't I? It's the job." She exhaled slowly, then looked up at Owen. "Thank you."

"Anytime." Owen reached out and pulled her into a hug. "Anytime." He repeated, kissing her on top of her head.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Sal arrived at the hub late. She had overslept, having been awake tossing and turning half the night. As she walked to her desk, she hoped that the Captain wouldn't notice her- he still hadn't forgiven her for that thing with the space pig. She reached her desk and sunk quietly into her chair, pulling off her coat in the process. As she was about to log onto the server, an entirely unwelcome sound hit her ears.

"Sal!" Captain Jack bellowed her name from his office.

Sal cringed and stood, getting sympathetic looks from everyone on the team. She walked nervously into the Captain's office and stood before his desk, her hands clasped tightly before her.

"Sit down, please." The Captain had his feet up on his desk, and he was leaning back in his chair, looking like he didn't have a care in the world.

Sal perched on the edge of the chair in front of the desk, resting her hands on her knees.

"Now, I know you think that I called you in here to yell at you, but I really didn't, I promise." The handsome man's rough American accent was strange to Sal's ears- she didn't think she'd ever get used to it. "I called you in here because I wanted to tell you that I think you did very well yesterday, keeping your head. A lot of people would've freaked at what you saw yesterday. I was very pleased by your composure."

Sal shrugged nervously. "It's just the job, sir."

"Haven't I told you to call me Jack?" the Captain smiled at his young employee.

The timid young woman looked at the ground. "Sorry, sir. I mean, Jack."

"That's better." The Captain studied Sal for a long while. "You say it's just the job, and I suppose you're right. But it takes a certain type of person do the job."

"I guess that's why you hired me, sir." Sal looked up at the Captain, who was still studying her.

"I guess so." Jack took his feet off the desk and leaned forward. "You're doing good, Sal. Better than I expected."

"Thank you, sir. Uh, Jack."

Captain Harkness nodded. "Now go back to work."

"Yes, sir." Sal stood and walked slowly out of the office and back to her station. A few seconds after she sat down and logged in, Owen messaged her.

_**How'd it go?**_

___Not bad_, Sal typed. _He didn't seem angry. He said I was doing better._

_**Jesus. Usually he's full of praise. **_

___I guess he just doesn't like me._

_**Maybe. You wanna go for chinese at lunch?**_

___Sure. _

_**Alright. Oh look, something's happening.**_

__Sal looked up from her monitor. Jack seemed to be arguing with someone on the phone. After a few moments, he slammed the receiver down and swore loudly. The Captain grabbed his signature greatcoat and rushed towards the door. As he reached the exit, he seemed to remember he had a staff, and turned around.

"Uh, I have to go into London- there's a thing with UNIT. You guys can, uh..." Jack paused for a minute, thinking, then continued. "You guys can just have the rest of the day off. I'll call if you're needed." He flashed them all one of his dazzling grins and rushed out without further explanation.

The team exchanged glances as the door shut behind their boss. "Well, that was fun." Owen drawled from across the room.

The rest of the team chuckled, then began preparing to leave. Suzie and Tosh rushed out together, leaving Owen and Sal alone.

Owen sauntered over to Sal's station, where she was carefully closing everything up. "So, you wanna grab a drink or something?"

Sal raised an eyebrow at her pale friend. "It's noon."

Owen grinned. "Yeah, well, we could get a head start on the rest of the city."

Shaking her head, Sal replied "How about this: we grab a bite to eat, see a movie, and then go for a drink."

"That sounds even better. A full rest of the day doing absolutely nothing." Owen held out Sal's coat for her as she stood.

Sal shrugged it on and the two of them headed out. "But first I want to stop at my place. I'm not big on the whole wearing office chic other places than the office thing."

Owen rolled his eyes. "Such a girl. See, if you were sensible like me, you would just wear normal clothes to work and you wouldn't have this problem."

"Well, I like to look professional at work."

"Yeah, but it has to be bloody difficult to chase weevils in heels." Owen held the door open for Sal, and they stepped out into the bright November sunlight.

"For a guy, yeah. But us girls have magical heel-wearing powers."

"Oh really?" Owen led Sal around the corner to his car.

"Yeah."

Owen pulled his car keys out of his pocket and unlocked it with a click of a button. He clambered in the driver's seat as Sal slid into the passenger's.

"So you said chinese?"

"Yeah. Sound good?" Owen looked over at his friend, ignoring the road.

"Sure. And pay attention to where you're driving. And put on your safety belt."

Owen rolled his eyes. "Spoilsport."

"That's me." Sal stared out the window.

The pair was silent for a few moments, until Owen was cut off by a lorry. He swerved to the right, swearing loudly, as he avoided crashing. "Wanker." he muttered darkly as the lorry sped ahead.

Sal looked over at Owen and giggled at his petulant expression. "You're such a baby."

"Oi, I almost got run over, there." Owen harrumphed indignantly, causing Sal to giggle more.

The two of them had settled into a comfortable silence by the time Owen realised he didn't know where Sal lived. "Uh, Sal? Where's your house?"

"Oh! Yeah, that would be helpful for you, eh? It's on Glamorgan, near Parry."

"Thank you." Owen turned the car onto Llandalf and headed north towards Sal's house. It didn't take them long to get there, as the traffic at noon on a Wednesday was pretty much nonexistant.

As the arrived at Sal's place, they pair got out of the car. As he locked it behind him, Owen spoke up. "I forgot to ask- how're you doing today?"

Sal looked up at Owen, shrugging. "I'm better. I don't think I'll ever get rid of that image out of my mind, of those bodies..." Sal swallowed hard, then let out a long breath. "But you know how it is. Keep calm and carry on."

Owen slung him arm around Sal's shoulders. "I'll get better. I promise. It doesn't seem like it now, but it will. It always does."


	3. Chapter 3

Owen lounged on Sal's couch as she changed out of her work clothes. "You know," he called, "you really have got a hell of a set up."

Sal laughed, the cheery sound muffled by the walls between her and the living room. "I have to do something with all the money Torchwood pays."

"True." Owen picked up one of the magazines on the coffee table and flipped through it. "Do you really read this crap?"

"Yes, I do. And it's not crap." Sal walked out into the living room wearing jeans with a belt and a long sleeved t-shirt. "Well, it is, but it's entertaining crap."

"Sure." Owen continued to flick through the magazine as Sal bustled about.

"Don't be so skeptical." Sal grabbed a red jacket and her handbag from the coat rack, then walked over to Owen. "Come on, then. I'm bloody starving." She smacked her friend lightly over the head.

Owen stood. "Oi! What was that for?"

Sal looked over her shoulder at him as she headed to the door, grinning. "For being such an arse."

Owen rolled his eyes and trotted up behind Sal as she opened the door, grabbing her around the waist.

"Hey!" Sal protested as Owen threw her over his shoulder. "Let me down!"

"No way." The man snickered as he shut the door to Sal's house and carried his friend off the porch. "Not until you say sorry."

Sal snorted. "Fine." She put on a sickly sweet voice. "Owen, I'm sorry for calling you an arse. Even if it's true."

Owen laughed and put Sal down, mussing her hair with his hand. "Good enough." He unlocked his car with the remote on his keys and clambered in.

As Sal slid into the passengers, she remarked "I didn't think you could lift me like that."

"Well, you don't weigh much, do you?" Owen smiled as he started the car. "Plus, I've got that strong, wiry build."

Sal rolled her eyes. "You've got to have, to support that head of yours."

Owen chuckled as he pulled out onto the street. "Be nice, yeah? I'm the one who'll be paying for your lunch."

"Well, aren't you the gentleman."

"Yes, yes I am."

"So, you said chinese?" Sal looked over at Owen, who was, for once, actually looking at the road.

"Yeah, that okay with you?" Owen ignored a stop sign.

"Absolutely." Sal opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by her mobile. Her ringtone was one of those pre-programmed ones, that sound like old fashioned landlines. She dug around in her purse for the mobile and looked at the caller ID: _Michael_. "You mind if I get this?"

Owen looked over at Sal, smiling. "Not at all."

Sal flipped open her phone. "Hey Michael."

"Hey babe." Michael's voice was low and smooth, like someone from an advert voiceover.

"What do you want?" Sal fidgeted, feeling awkward. Talking on the phone with someone else in the car always had felt rude to her.

"Just wondering if you were up for something tonight."

Sal rolled her eyes at Michael's suggestive tone. "Like what?"

"Dunno, maybe we could grab some nosh then go to mine? It's been ages since you've come round."

"You know how work is." Sal pondered Michael's offer. 'Getting some nosh' with him usually meant getting smashed at his local pub, something Sal would normally avoid. Though, it was her day off, and-

"Babe, you still there? And I know what you're thinking, that 'getting some nosh' usually means the pub, but I thought we could go to a nice restaurant, just 'cause it's been so long." Michael interrupted her thought process.

"Yeah. That sounds lovely. And I'm up for it."

"Brilliant. I'll pick you up at nine."

"Yeah, and-"

Michael interrupted her once again, this time by hanging up on her. Sal rolled her eyes and snapped her phone shut, shoving it back in her purse. "Sorry about that."

"No worries. That your boyfriend?" Owen looked over at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Nah, just a mate. Nosy." Sal flashed a smile at Owen, who, surprisingly, didn't smile back.

"Just a mate, eh?" Owen muttered, shaking his head.

"Yeah, just a mate. And I wouldn't be talking, if I were you." Sal cocked an eyebrow at her friend.

Owen snorted. "You have got a point, there."

"I know." Sal grinned at Owen again.

"So who is this Michael?"

"You're quite nosy."

Owen turned and smirked at Sal. "Again, paying for lunch."

Sal shrugged, admitting his point. "We went to university together, and-"

Owen turned to Sal, surprised. "You went to uni?"

Sal raised her eyebrows at her friend. "Duh."

"I mean, I know you're smart and everything, but you're only like nineteen!"

Sal rolled her eyes. "I'm twenty one."

"Well, you've still been at Torchwood for what, three years?"

"Four. I just went to uni early- and I dropped out." She paused, then added as an explanation "I got bored."

Owen shook his head in disbelief. "I must be the only idiot on the team."

"Quite possibly, yes. Anyways, we dated for a few months, but I got bored so I dumped him."

"I'm sensing a theme here."

"No judgements from you, Mr. Harper. You've got a different person in your bed every night."

"Yeah, but I'm older and wiser."

Sal giggled. "Of course you are. Anyways, he and I have been mates ever since."

Owen harrumphed again as he parked in front of the chinese restaurant. "Mates."


	4. Chapter 4

Sal stood before her closet, a slight frown on her face. Owen had dropped her off two hours ago after a lovely day, and ever since she'd been prepping for her 'date' with Michael. She had showered, done her hair and make-up, and now she was standing in her bra and undies, puzzling over what to wear.

It was always a challenge with Michael, deciding what to wear out with him. His tastes changed hourly, and so did his expectations. In all honesty, he was a bit of a wanker, but Sal didn't really mind much. She enjoyed the easiness of it, never having to act ladylike or polite.

But the clothing was not as easy. Finally she decided on a shortish dress, dark blue with tight long sleeves and a deep scoop-neck that accentuated her collarbone. Modest and classy, yet alluring. Sal threw on a double roped strand of pearls, pulled on a pair of cream pumps, and grabbed her gold clutch. She threw her phone into the clutch- but not her money, as she knew from experience that if she had some, she'd end up paying for dinner.

Michael was surprisingly prompt, ringing her doorbell at exactly nine. Sal threw on her leather dress coat and answered the door.

Her ex stood at the door, dressed in nice jeans, a button down, and a waistcoat and tie. "Hey babe." Michael grinned. "You look good."

"So do you." Sal was actually quite surprised by Michael's snappy appearance. He usually limited himself to ratty old jeans and band t-shirts. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get on my good side."

"Well maybe I am." Michael grinned his smooth grin again and held out an arm.

Sal took it, shutting the door behind her. They walked out to Michael's car, where he held the door open for her. Sal raised an eyebrow, skeptical, but accepted anyways. Michael was gentlemanly all night, holding out chairs, and complimenting her, and doing everything right. He even payed for dinner without asking Sal for a contribution.

As they got to Michael's place, Sal piped up about her ex's behavior. "You've been so gentlemanly all night. It makes me nervous."

"Why?" Michael looked down at the young woman.

Sal snorted. "Because you have never been this nice to me in the whole time we've known each other."

"That is true." Michael fell silent as he opened his door.

"Fine, don't explain." Sal muttered, walking into Michael's flat.

"Can't you just accept that I'm being nice? I-"

Sal put a finger to Michael's lips, shushing his rambling. "I was just teasing."

"Oh." Michael smiled widely.

"Git." Sal smiled.

"You like it. And for your information, maybe I like being nice to you." Michael smirked deviously, sliding his arms around Sal's waist.

"Well, maybe." Sal pushed Michael back against the door, mimicking his mischievous look. "I thought you were just trying to get into my pants."

"I don't need to be gentlemanly for that." Michael leaned down and forcefully kissed Sal, who gladly reciprocated.

"Am I that predictable?" Sal murmured against her companion's lips, pushing her hips into his.

Michael moaned softly at the contact, and pulled Sal even more tightly against him. "Yes, I think you are."

Sal smiled, running her hand over her ex's chest. She felt something under her hand, rectangular and flat, and pulled it from his breast pocket. "What's this?" She inspected the card. "'Michael Dan, Investigative Reporter'. Well that's a bit posh, isn't it?"

"Give that back." Michael's voice was oddly urgent.

"Why? What if I need some investigative reporting?" Sal laughed at Michael, pushing him away lightly.

"Just give it back!" He grabbed the card from her and pushed her back, hard.

Sal slammed against the wall, shocked. "What the bloody hell was that for?" She grabbed the card back. "Is there something you don't want me to see?" Before Michael could snatch the card, she read "'Specializing in Aliens and the Supernatural'." Sal's heart froze. Was he onto Torchwood? "What kind of bollocks is this?"

"I said, it's nothing." Michael's voice was dangerously low as he grabbed the card back and shoved it in his pocket. "Now," he said, pushing Sal back against the wall, "where were we?"

"Nowhere!" Sal pushed Michael off of her, "Not if you're just going to treat me like that."

Michael pushed her back into the wall again, holding her down. "I said, where were we?"

Sal stomped down hard on Michael's left foot, causing him to stagger and loosen his his hold on her. She extricated herself from his grip and ran over to her coat and clutch.

Before Sal could gather her things, though, Michael grabbed her arm. He spun her around to face him, his eyes boiling with an irrational anger. Sal attempted to pull her arm out of her ex's grip, but he held tight. "Goddamn it, Michael, what is your fucking problem?"

Michael didn't respond, keeping a stony face as he clenched her arm.

Thoroughly angry now, Sal reached up and slapped Michael hard across the face with a loud crack. He swore loudly as his head snapped violently to the side.

The older man let go of Sal's arm, but attempted to slap her back before she could get away. Sal dodged the slap, but lost her balance and stumbled into the sofa. Michael took advantage of her weakness and picked Sal up by her shoulders.

Michael pulled back a fist and swung it towards Sal's jaw, his other hand holding tight onto the back of his ex's neck. Sal managed to block the punch, setting Michael off-balance. She began to scratch at Michael's face, leaving long red lines across his round face.

Michael grabbed Sal's wrists and pulled her hands away from his face, swearing violently. He shoved her back, causing the petit young woman to fall backwards over the sofa and into the iron-framed coffee table. There was a smash and a loud crack as Sal's left arm crashed into the table, shattering the glass and bouncing off the frame. She screamed, cradling her arm to her chest, silently cursing herself for not bringing a weapon of some kind.

The man stormed around the sofa and took a moment to stand over Sal and admire his handiwork. He stood for a second too long, and Sal took her opportunity, kicking her leg high off the ground and slammed her foot into her ex's groin.

Michael sunk to the ground immediately, groaning in pain. Sal took advantage of his distraction and clambered up, rushing back over to her coat and clutch. She grabbed them both and ran out of the flat.

When Sal had made it down the stairs and out the building, she sank against the wall. Shaking, Sal pulled out her clutch and grabbed her phone, dialing the only number she could think of.

The number rang through to answering the first time, but she dialed again and Owen picked up on the first ring.

"Owen?"

"Oh, hey, Sal. What's going on?" Owen sounded groggy, like he had been sleeping.

"Um, I hate to bother you, but-" Sal's voice choked up at the agony radiating from her arm and she had to pause for a moment to regain composure. "I don't have my car, and I don't have any money with me for a taxi, but I-"

"Where are you?" Owen sounded concerned, and immediately more alert.

"On Third and Main." Sal's voice was audibly trembling now.

"I'll be right there- don't move."


End file.
